


Slice of Life: Cold Comfort

by The Black Sluggard (Hazgarn)



Series: Life [4]
Category: Castle
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Zombies, Angst, Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff, Insomnia, M/M, Romance, Slash, Undead, Zombies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-05
Updated: 2011-11-05
Packaged: 2017-10-25 17:42:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/273022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazgarn/pseuds/The%20Black%20Sluggard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heat always told...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slice of Life: Cold Comfort

2 a.m. was a lonely hour, but once his night walks had become habit, Javier had quickly come to realize that he was very rarely alone. It had taken a while but he had slowly come to recognize them when he saw them, the others like him that made up an alarming proportion of the late subway crowd.

There was a wide spectrum of types, and some were easier to spot than others.

Caucasians were usually the easiest. With their lighter skin, the pallor caused by the lack of red blood cells stood out more. Often you could tell with a quick glance, while in those whose skin was darker it was less pronounced. He'd seen more than a few who were so grey they looked like the corpses that people like them had once been taken for.

Then you had the ones who took hemoglobin injections to try and pass by simulating the appearance of having red blood in their veins. Of course, with their lack of blood flow, the injected proteins sometimes collected in the capillaries, giving a perpetually flushed appearance that was just as easy to spot if one was looking.

Alcoholics and others with liver disease of any but the darkest ethnicities were also easy to spot from the black discoloration of their veins. Webber's sign, Reggie had explained to him once. Blood serum, the liquid element of blood that post-vitals still had, contained proteins produced in the liver, and for reasons that weren't well understood the serum albumin produced by a damaged post-vital liver turned black when exposed to light.

There were other ways to make the spot beyond appearance. Mannerisms, mostly. The way they watched people, or pretended not to watch them.

The same neurological changes that ceased communication with the heart also meant that most post-vitals eventually lost involuntary control of their breathing as well. While Javier didn't actually need to breathe he wasn't one of those—not _yet_ —but it was an eventuality he was painfully aware of. When they were engaged in conversation you might never notice, but sitting alone, watching the lights outside the subway car flicker past the windows, they were so still that you could never mistake them for being conventionally alive.

The easiest way to tell was through touch, of course. Heat _always_ told.

Returning from his walk, Javier barely had time to strip off his jacket before his partner's sleepy mumble reached his ears.

"Come to _bed_."

Smiling at the faint whine in the request, Javier carefully thought it over.

"No."

Kevin made an unhappy noise, pouting, Javier noticed, with his eyes still closed.

"Kev, it's not even thirty degrees outside," he warned, "Right now I'm not much warmer. Let me take a shower, then I'll climb in bed with you. Trust me, you'll be glad I took the time."

To make his point, Javier leaned over and kissed him. Kevin's nose crinkled faintly as Javier's chilled lips brushed his own, but he still didn't open his eyes.

"Less talking more doing," Kevin muttered, rolling over sullenly.

Javier dragged the blankets up over Kevin's back and shoulders before he turned toward the bathroom. Standing under the faucet, he turned the heat up as high as he could stand. He didn't want to keep Kevin waiting.


End file.
